When the Lilacs Last Bloomed
by sleepy queens
Summary: "Little things seem like nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air." [a drabble collection]
1. All their conversations were lost

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges. Dedicated to the lovely reminiscent-afterthought.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Alicia, George  
**Challenge(s):** The Becoming a Wizard Challenge: The First Breath Into the Wizarding Word #01, Minor Character Boot Camp #46- elephant in the room, and Friendship Boot Camp #01- new.

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All their conversations were lost in the breeze. If you asked Alicia, she wouldn't name a single thing she and George had talked about in those long days after the war. Perhaps she couldn't. Perhaps those days were too raw, locked away in a dusty corner of her mind to preserve her sanity. Or perhaps words could never do those days justice.

Instead, she'd tell you about the soft grass on the cliff they retreated to for mutual commiseration, the smell of the sturdy trees they'd never learned about in Herbology, the sting on her salty, damp cheeks as the wind lashed against them. She'd tell you about George's large hand folded into hers as they held onto each other and felt each other's losses- a lover, a brother, and the lives they could've led.


	2. One more sip of absinthe

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Cho Chang  
**Challenge(s):** The Becoming a Wizard Challenge: The First Breath Into the Wizarding Word #02 and the Minor Character Boot Camp Challenge #50 - bruise.

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_One more sip of absinthe, and I can capture the beauty of the night_, Cho tells herself, feeling the strong liquid burning her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. The world shifts.

Everything is happening too fast, too simultaneously, too beautifully. The hard wood under her feet is cool and the texture's similar to the old, gnarled paintbrush in her hand and Cho wants to feel it. She rests her head on the floor, her cheek flattening as if it feels the whirl-y patterns.

The bruised midnight purple sky is far from her mind when Cho finally lifts herself off the floor and brings her brush to the canvas. Cadmium orange, sienna, permanent rose. She transforms the swirls of bare wood into a psychedelic galaxy trapping a girl made of charcoal and ash.

Cho never manages to capture beauty. Instead, she creates it.


	3. My sister's name is hard in your mouth

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Parvati Patil  
**Challenge(s):** The Becoming a Wizard Challenge: The First Breath Into the Wizarding Word #03 and the Minor Character Boot Camp Challenge #06 - tickle.

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My sister's name is hard in your mouth. _Pad-mah._ You say her name like you're fighting your tongue, like you're striking the air and, suddenly, I am so very exhausted. Our surroundings are so prominent to me now, a cold grey corridor in a cold grey school in cold grey Britain.

I want to scream but instead, I whisper. _Padma. Pudh-muh._ The syllables flow out of my mouth like honey, soothing the tickle in my throat brought forth by English's hard angles. Hindi is music and Telugu is music and Sanskrit is music and English is too sharp.

"Pardon?" you ask, but I've already smiled and waved good-bye, rushing past as if I have somewhere to go. I end up back in bed, burying myself in the quilt my ammamma made me, hurrying home thousands of kilometers away, to warmth and sunshine and comfort and softness. A place where my tongue isn't lost. A place where no one cuts my sister by simply calling her name.


	4. He missed the way she smelled

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Salazar/Rowena  
**Challenge(s):** The Becoming a Wizard Challenge: The First Breath Into the Wizarding Word #04 and the Minor Character Boot Camp Challenge #45 - quill.

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He missed the way she smelled. Wasn't that strange? Before Rowena left, he hadn't even noticed that she'd left her scent everywhere. The scent would hit Salazar out of nowhere- ink and shoeshine and lavender soap that conjured images of long dark hair and rustling skirts and a deep, unladylike laugh.

She had left traces of herself in every corner of his house, but the worst was the parlor. The china sugar bowl Rowena had gifted him sat on the silver side table she picked out. The top of bookshelf was filled with her recommendations, innovative Eastern spell books annotated with her careful quill. She had taken over his house and he hadn't even noticed.

It took Salazar too long to realize he'd have either move or win Rowena back. At some point, it had become as much her home as his.

.


	5. A witch is nothing without her wand

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Padma/Cho  
**Challenge(s):** The Becoming a Wizard Challenge: The First Breath Into the Wizarding Word #05, Minor Character Boot Camp Challenge #11 - expelliarmus, and Friendship Boot Camp #01- shadows

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A witch is nothing without her wand. At least, that's what they were taught. That's why the first defensive spell they ever learned was Expelliarmus. Because without her wand, what could a witch do? It was magic which was in their blood. But Padma was also half Muggle and she embraced that in the shadows of the Ravenclaw dormitories at night. She laid stomach-first on the short-haired navy carpet in perfect push-up formation, muscle memory from her childhood girl's rugby team coming back to her.

Up. down. Up. down. Up. down.

She could feel her arms screaming in protest, abs burning from years of relative inactivity. Padma ignored the pain, concentrating instead on the heavy breathing of her sleeping roommates, paying close attention to Su Li's delicate little snores, and continued on.

Up. down. Up. down. Up. down.

After her arms went numb, she rolled over onto her back and began to do crunches. Exercise not for herself, but for those on the run. For those for whom magic may be a luxury. For little Miss Chang, with her almost-Gryffindor fieriness and long dark hair and taste for heroes. For the last letter Cho had sent her, two months old and burned into Padma's memory. _I think they can track our wands. I tried to make fire yesterday and the snatchers were there within seconds. I can't feel my left hand anymore and barely made it out with my life. I'm hiding out in a non-wizarding town. That N.E.W.T. in Muggle Studies really is coming in handy right now. I hope I'll be able to write again soon, but don't count on it. I miss you. Stay safe. P.S. Check in on my father if you can. He'd a good wizard, but I worry. _

Up. down. Up. down. Up down.

With every movement, Padma could feel the carpet scratchy against her bare neck, visualizing the curls of Cho's handwriting. There were no straight lines anymore, no elementary duelling classes, no simple Expelliarmuses. Even inside Hogwarts, they were at war, and Padma was ready to transform into a warrior. Not just a powerful witch. A unstoppable human warrior.


	6. There was only ever Fleur

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Bill/Fleur  
**Challenge(s):** Dedicated to Emma (ImprisonedByTechnology). Also written for the Minor Character Boot Camp (#28 dress robes), the Favorite Era Boot Camp (#09 angel), and the Family Bootcamp (#01 committee).

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There was only ever Fleur. No other girl had ever mattered to Bill. He remembers the first time he met her like it was yesterday. It was at a gala organized by Gringotts that Bill hadn't even wanted to go to until he found out the committee in charge of approving grant proposals would be attending. Sure, wearing his nicest pair of dress robe to a fancy rich people's party wasn't his ideal way to spend a Saturday night, but he really needed more research money for his latest project (which had to do breaking extremely dangerous ancient Indian curses created during the reign of the Mughals).

The party was exactly as boring as he expected. There were just legions of old, fat wizards who had never worked a day in their lives and knew absolutely nothing about the cutting edge research they were sponsoring. Bill was nursing a beer after conversing with a particularly clueless aristocrat when he spotted her.

She looked like an angel. Not only was she the only witch under the age of sixty at the party, she was also the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. And she was walking directly towards him.

"Have we met before?" the woman asked, not bothering with an introduction. She was to-the-point. And she was French. Damn. He liked that.

"I don't think so," Bill replied, unleashing the most flirtatious smile his face was capable of making. "There's no way I could forget such a beautiful face."

"I'm Fleur, by the way. I guess you remind of someone I met once," she said, studying Bill's face as if to read his intentions.

"If you get to know me, I guarantee you'll never think about that guy ever again."

Fleur raised her eyebrow in amusement. She wasn't used to men who could hold a conversation with a part-veela without babbling. And the man was quite good looking, with the earring and the long hair. He looked like a rockstar and she was definitely into that.

"Why don't you get me a drink, casanova, and we'll see about that," Fleur said with a smile, flipping her hair in a way that made Bill's mind go blank. He rushed to the open bar to get her a drink before she changed her mind.

That night, tightly clutching the scrap of paper with Fleur's owling address written on it, Bill thanked Merlin for stuffy galas, unbelievably good luck, and hot blondes.


	7. Charlie, we're lost

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Charlie/Tonks  
**Challenge(s):** Written for the Minor Character Boot Camp (#38 mud), Favorite Era Boot Camp (#03 Sunset), and the Family Bootcamp (#17 Apology)

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"Charlie, we're lost," Tonks said as she discreetly wiped an errant bead of sweat from her brow and glared at the Weasley, who had abruptly stopped walking. They two of them were deep in one of a magically-hidden forest somewhere in Ireland, led through the dense trees by only by a stolen old compass and the stars. Tonks and Charlie were determined to have an adventure after graduation and, due to some poor decision making, their adventure consisted of navigating through some woods without using magic.

"We're _not_ lost," Charlie insisted, staring alternately at the sky and the compass with a perplexed look on his face. "Am I holding this right? Or is it upside down? How in the world do Muggles use these things?"

"We've passed by those purple flowers at least four times already so whatever you're doing isn't working." Sighing, Tonks sat down in the mud next to the colorful blossoms, resigned to her fate of being lost in the wilderness in dirty pants for the rest of eternity. Or however long it took for them to starve and die. Not being able to transfigure food was a bummer.

"Maybe there's no north here," Charlie mused, sitting down next to the increasingly sleepy Tonks. She simply glared instead of answering him. She _knew_ that trying to navigate the forest in the dark wasn't going to end well. She _told_ him that they should've pitched their tents when they passed that road sign. Stupid Gryffindor boys.

Sensing Tonk's almost palpable irritation, Charlie didn't bother trying to engage her in conversation. Instead, he leaned over her and carefully plucked the biggest violet.

Mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "Sorry for getting us lost" (although he'd never admit it), Charlie pushed the bloom into Tonk's hand.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and looking utterly unimpressed by the flower.

The light blush already adorning Charlie's cheeks deepened until his face matched his hair. "Aren't girls are supposed to like flowers and shit?" He replied, a little too loudly.

"Maybe stupid girls," Tonks said, rolling her eyes. "C'mon. Let's go." She stood up in one fluid motion and started walking in a random direction. Charlie shook his head and followed. Stupid complicated girls.

When she thought he wasn't looking, Tonks slipped the violet into her pocket.

Charlie could barely hide his smirk.


	8. This war is going to kill me

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Sirius/Marlene  
**Challenge(s):** Written for the Minor Character Boot Camp (#35 hippogriff).

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"This war is going to kill me," Marlene said one night rather nonchalantly. Her tone was wrong for that kind of declaration. She sounded like she was telling him about what flavor of ice cream she'd bought from Fortescue's or something. It retrospect, it wasn't that surprising. She only had two voices: sober and sexy as hell.

Her declaration wasn't particularly shocking. After all, order members lead particularly dangerous lives. Any given day they could be tortured by a death eater or kicked to death by a hippogriff. There was a lot of variety within order jobs, but they were all the same amount of dangerous. No one was guaranteed life. And although nearly everyone had expressed their fears about not living this thing through, no one said it like Marlene. With such oppressing finality, like she _knew _somehow. Like she'd already lived it.

Sirius just chalked it up to unnecessary dramatics and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Maybe if he'd known that was to be their last kiss, he would've been more passionate and romantic. But he had no idea he'd never see her again.


	9. I feel like we're gonna be stuck

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Terry Boot, Su Li  
**Challenge(s):** Written for the Favorite Era Boot Camp (#05 - motorcycle).

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"I feel like we're gonna be stuck here with the Carrows for the rest of our lives," Terry Boot said dejectedly. Thanks to the liberal use of what was apparently not technically torture, everyone was constantly on edge, making every day seem like a lifetime. The seventh-years in particular were getting stir-crazy since Hogsmeade trips were no longer an option.

"No kidding, dude," replied Su Li. "This place is like a damn prison cell. I'm counting the days till we get out."

"You got any plans? Or will you be living in your parent's spare room?" Terry asked with a smirk.

Su flashed him a truly horrendous-looking scowl.

"I'm going to buy a motorcycle. I already got the money saved up so I can happily explore with just a wand and a leather jacket. I have bike magazines, wanna look at the models I'm considering?"

The two Ravenclaws spent a good portion of the night poring through the magazines, circling the coolest looking ones. But, deep down, the knew none of it was likely to pan out. There was war on the horizon and they would be at the forefronts.

But it doesn't hurt to indulge in a little fantasy every now and then.


	10. Apparently Penelope

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Percy, Charlie  
**Challenge(s):** Written for the Favorite Era Boot Camp (#13 kingdom) and the Family Boot Camp (#06 civilization).

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Apparently Penelope had dumped good old Percy, who had been mostly out of sight since the news broke. Poor kid was probably searching for some privacy. It was too bad that Charlie knew exactly where to find him. Percy was a lot more predictable than he thought he was.

And, sure enough, the heartbroken bloke was sitting under a tree, right next to the stream they used to fish in when they were younger.

"Hey man, are you alright?" Charlie asked, taking a seat next to his brother.

"I expected you to be the one to find me," Percy answered. Purposely ignoring the question was his way of saying he was a total wreck.

"Look at all this beautiful nature. This is our kingdom, no civilization anywhere in sight. The world's a big place. Everyone gets heartbroken sooner or later, so just count yourself lucky you weren't already hitched with kids on the way."

Percy didn't say anything for a while as if he was thinking about Charlie's nuggets of wisdom.

"Let's go get some bottles of fire whiskey, yah?"

Charlie broke out into a grin. Guess Percy was a Weasley man at heart after all.


	11. Every time

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Padma Patil  
**Challenge(s):** Written for the Favorite Era Boot Camp (#10 - roses) and the Twin Boot Camp (#27 honesty)

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Every time a man tells her he "doesn't see color," Padma walks away. Stripping away a part of her identity benefits those who do not want an "other" in their community, never people like her.

Every time a man calls her exotic, part of Padma cringes because she doesn't want to be valued because of a perceived "other." She isn't interested in men who date her thinking she'll make them more cultured or worldly. Padma's body isn't open for tourists, even if they're nice men who buy her roses and pay for her meals, because they don't understand a very vital part of her heart.

Maybe she's too picky, but Padma's not the kind of girl who can ignore microaggressions. It shouldn't be unreasonable to want a guy who could respect both halves of her.


	12. So you think

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed**  
_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Dirk Cresswell &amp; Reginald Cattermole  
**Challenge(s):** Written for the Character Challenge.

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"Er, so you think Mary's parents will like these?" Reginald asked Dirk, closely examining the green glass bottle of Muggle wine and the gorgeous golden yellow flowers his friend had brought him. As a lover of Herbology, the flowers themselves fascinated him. In the Wizarding town he'd grown up in, Reginald had seen less pristine versions of these blooms near the woods, but had always dismissed them as simple weeds. It was strange to think that Muggles actually prized the plants enough to buy them from their Herbologists.

"Definitely," said Dirk, eyes crinkling at Reginald's worry. _Reggie must really love Mary to be that stressed about meeting her parents_, Dirk thought to himself. The Cattermoles, though not an old pureblood family, were fairly established in the Wizarding community and Reginald did not have much (if any) experience with Muggles and was therefore terrified of meeting Mary's family, scared to accidentally break Muggle customs and offend them. So, naturally, he went to his closest Muggleborn friend for assistance.

And Dirk was more than happy to help.

"They'll love you, Reggie. Don't be so nervous," he said, squeezing his friend's shoulder and smiling.

"Thanks for everything, man," Reginald said before scurrying out of the office clutching the wine and flowers.

Dirk, a hopeless romantic, smiled watching him leave. Young love was a precious thing.


	13. Bellatrix was not

**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles written for various challenges.

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**When the Lilacs Last Bloomed  
**_a collection of drabbles_

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**Character(s):** Rodolphus, Bellatrix  
**Challenge(s):** The 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge.

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Bellatrix was not the most affectionate spouse. Or affectionate at all, to be perfectly honest. When she slept in her and Rodolphus' marriage bed, Bella slept to the side, seemingly sprawled hapazardly, yet she never touched Rodolphus. If he moved his hand towards her, she would yank it away. Bellatrix Black was did not become a Lestrange for love, and she made that perfectly clear. She liked to kill with Rodolphus and would occsionally laugh with him and eat with him, but truly caring for him was out of the question.

However, every year, she had a single kind gesture: giving her husband one perfectly sliced cantaloupe every year for his birthday.

Rodolphus hated that stupid too-sweet, too-soft fruit. Bellatrix knew that, and he knew she knew that. But every year, he got a cantaloupe, perfectly sliced. And every year, he ate it, swallowing each goddamned piece without much chewing because this was as close to romantic as his wife would ever get.

Even in Azkaban, Bellatrix managed to talk the guards into giving him one medium sized melon (unless someone else took up the melon-gifting as a favor to her- supremely unlikely considering all of their friends were either dead or in jail alongside them).

The birthday cantelope was a fact of life. A permanent fixture in his life, proving that he was a at least little more than a coworker to the most notorious witch alive.

Until finally, that year, the one where he was injured by that werewolf-loving freak of nature. Rodolphus waited in his hospital room on his birthday, looking through his mostly unsurprising gifts. Assorted dark objects from Lucius and Narcissa. His favorite bread pudding from Yaxley. A full bottle of Firewhiskey from Rastaban.

But no cantaloupe.

She had forgotten.


End file.
